


Foreplay is Over

by freckledandspectacled



Series: Prompt Fills [7]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cleithrophobia, Cockblocking, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jim Gordon is a cockblock, Kissing, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Love, M/M, Psychopaths In Love, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:38:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9333680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledandspectacled/pseuds/freckledandspectacled
Summary: Direct sequel to 'Gunplay is Foreplay' and part of the prompt fill series. How did the rest of the day play out for Ed and Oswald, and will they ever resolve the sexual tension from the gun range?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I got another prompt to continue where I left off in the last fic and I just couldn't leave the boys hanging, so here we go.

Oswald has never been less enthusiastic about a tree lighting ceremony in his life. He’s already said his piece, now he has to suffer while countless other officials talk about the “spirit of Christmas,” the environment, God, charity, helping the homeless, donating to _blah blah blah_. If one more person says ‘cheer’ he’s going to-  


“-spread love and Christmas cheer. We-” he wishes he could scream. Ed shifts on his feet next to him, then reaches behind him to place a hand on the small of his back. There’s only the tree behind them, and he puts his arm around Ed’s waist, pulling him closer. Ed shuffles over until their sides are pressed together. Better.

More people drone on, and he’s getting impatient. He drops his hand to Ed’s ass and _squeezes_. Ed jumps, squeaking. Oswald tries very poorly to conceal his facial expression, unable to help a small smirk but managing not to make a noise. Several people turn to look at them and Ed tries to cover his _adorable_ squeak with a cough.

Oswald keeps his hand there for the remainder of the ceremony. Ed doesn’t mind.

***

The moment the car door closes they’re at each other.

“That was agony,” Ed says, pulling off his belt.

“I thought it would never end,” Oswald adds, removing his own. Oswald pulls Ed close, kissing him as he lays Ed back against the seat. Ed cups his face, deepening the kiss while Oswald undoes his pants and tugs them down over the curve of his ass, along with his underwear. He breaks the kiss to drag them the rest of the way off, pulling off Ed’s shoes and dropping them in a pile on the floor of the car.

Normally Ed would put up a fuss about folding them neatly, but he’s still desperate from earlier. Ed pulls his tie loose and undoes the top buttons of his shirt for Oswald while Oswald reaches into a compartment to search for-

 _Oh, thank heavens_. They have lube. 

Oswald coats a finger and caps the bottle, moving back between Ed’s legs. He kisses him, grinding his hips against him. Ed brings his legs up around him, digging his heels into Oswald’s backside, encouraging him.

“C’mon, Ozzie, c’mon…” he murmurs between kisses. Oswald finally works a finger into him, crooking it. Ed is practically purring beneath him, and Oswald leaves his lips to bite at the flesh of his throat, which Ed had so courteously exposed earlier.

“Sirs, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt,” the driver calls over the limo’s small speaker system, drawing Oswald’s attention to the fact that they have not even left the festivities yet. This appears to dawn on Ed as well as the driver continues, “An Officer James Gordon is not allowing me to leave the premises on account of the fact that he has an urgent matter about which he wishes to speak with you.”

Oswald hesitates. Ed clenches around his finger, locking his legs around him and then pulling him down by the tie to hiss in his face.

“If you leave me like this, you are never sticking your cock in me ever again.” It’s an empty threat, Oswald knows, but he also doesn’t want to be in the doghouse with Ed. Ed’s doghouse is a terrifying place to be.

“Of course not,” he soothes. He’d rather tell Jim to get lost himself, but Ed’s already indicated that he’s going to have a conniption if he leaves.

Pressing in the intercom to speak with the driver, Oswald says, “Tell James I will speak to him at another time, and that he can make an appointment like everyone else. I have important business to attend to,” he ends, crooking his finger in Ed as he does.

Ed keens, then covers his mouth with his hand to stifle it, his eyes wide. He hopes the driver didn’t hear. Oswald’s other hand leaves the button and he takes Ed’s hand away from his mouth, kissing the back of it before kissing his lips. 

“Where were we?” he asks, sucking kisses into Ed’s throat. There’s a commotion outside, and then suddenly the door behind them is ripped open. Ed gasps, freezing, his eyes going wide with shock before his face transforms into pure rage. Oswald carefully removes the digit he has inside Ed. He turns his head, glaring, trying to cover Ed’s lower half while he confronts whomever had just found them in the act.

Jim Gordon stands frozen in the door, his mouth agape. 

“Close the door,” Oswald says, calmly, trying not to draw any more attention.

“Jesus- I didn’t- I’m so sorry-” Jim rasps.

“Close the door, Jim!” Oswald screams, and it slams shut. That was the problem with having a police entourage doing their security at these things: Jim Gordon got a free pass to do whatever he wanted.

“Oswald-”

“I’ll handle it.”

“You’d better.” Ed says, pushing him off and collecting his clothing from the floor. He dresses, wiggling into his pants and muttering, “Jim Gordon killed my boner.”

Oswald retrieves his belt and straightens his clothes, waiting until Ed is dressed before opening the door. Jim hovers nearby.

“James!” he calls brightly, beckoning him over. Ed steps out of the car and stands slightly behind him, glowering as a foil to his lover’s chipper attitude. Jim approaches, wary. And rightly so. 

When he’s close enough, Oswald back-hands him so hard he stumbles against the car and falls back. He manages to stay on his feet. Oswald immediately wishes he had hit him harder.

“I deserved that,” he admits. His mouth is bleeding. Or maybe his nose. There’s blood, at any rate, and Oswald hopes it’s enough to satisfy Ed’s wrath as well.

“You deserve more than that. You aren’t entitled to my time, Jim. I don’t owe you anything. Whatever is was that was so urgent, forget it. Now get lost, I have better things to do.”

“I’m ‘things,’” Ed clarifies, putting his hands on Oswald’s shoulders and pressing against him. He drags his hands over Oswald’s chest, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him from behind. He winks from over Oswald’s shoulder, smiling genially.

Jim chokes, then makes an about-face and disappears into the crowd. The crowd is too busy taking pictures of the tree and one another to notice the exchange.

“Really, Ed?”

“Oh, like he didn’t know what we were up to.”

“He doesn’t need to know about our sex life.”

“He knows now.” 

Oswald sighs. Hopefully Jim will be too mortified to start running his mouth. Oswald and Edward weren’t official yet, preferring to keep their relationship private in these beginning stages while they figured things out. They might have to make an announcement soon, if things keep going like this.

Ed gets back in the car. Oswald slides in next to him, putting a hand on his thigh. Ed pulls away.

“Are you mad at me?” Oswald asks, pulling Ed back to him and mouthing at his neck. Ed turns his head, avoiding his kisses. Ed’s a sucker for hickeys; Oswald’s screwed.

“No, but I’m not in the mood,” Ed says, and he sounds annoyed.

“I’m sure I can fix that,” he purrs, nuzzling his nose against Ed’s jaw and kissing along it.

“I’m not letting you fuck me when I can’t stop thinking about Jim Gordon seeing you finger me!” Ed screeches.

Oswald gives him space. He had still been fully clothed when Jim barged in on them. Ed had been exposed, vulnerable, his bare legs wrapped around Oswald and his shirt unbuttoned to his diaphragm. Who knows what else Jim had seen. It was definitely more difficult for Ed, Oswald conceded. He also had a darker history and a lot more bitterness between himself and Jim Gordon.

“We are never screwing around in the car again, I won’t ever be able to forget about it,” Ed grumbles, shaking his head.

Ed’s infallible memory was both a blessing and a curse. Oswald curses. Car sex wasn’t the best sex, true, but it had been good sex. With their schedule, sometimes it was the only sex. He finds himself wishing he had beat James Gordon within an inch of his life, because if he had ruined car sex for him….

The car starts, and they move forward.

“That’s understandable, Ed. Can I still kiss you?” 

Ed’s expression softens. “Sure, Oz. That’s- that’s fine.” 

Oswald kisses him very gently on the lips, sneaking an arm around behind him, then presses a kiss to his temple. After, he just waits, keeping his arm around Ed to hold him close. He watches the scenery passing by through the car windows. 

Eventually, Ed puts a hand on Oswald’s face and turns it so he can kiss him, for real. Oswald keeps his hands to himself, letting Ed do what he wants. He doesn’t want to reinforce Ed’s hatred for vehicular coitus, after all.

When Ed’s through with kissing him, he pulls Oswald’s arm around him, resting his head on Oswald’s shoulder. He’s always trying to be smaller than he truly is. Sometimes that worries Oswald, but now probably isn’t the best time. Edward loathes having important conversations in the car. He’s confessed to Oswald that it’s difficult for him to confront anyone without a clear means of escape, and throwing oneself out of a car was not desirable. Oswald knows his history, he understands. It’s why the doors are always unlocked, after all.

When they make it home Oswald is not sure how to proceed. Ed’s privacy had been massively violated. Oswald decides it’s up to him to make a move. He doesn’t want to add to what Ed’s already been through. The driver opens their door, allowing them to exit.

“Terribly sorry about the detective, sir. He was most insistent. I imagine the other officers let him right through,” the driver comments.

“Don’t concern yourself, the man’s a menace,” Oswald reassures him. He’s a good man, and he’s kept his mouth shut about what he and Ed get up to in the car most trips. Oswald isn’t going to sack him.

“Very good, sir. Have you and the Mister any bags?”

“Not today, and you can go home. Edward and I don’t plan on leaving again this evening.” 

He nods, closing the door behind them and taking off.

“Sometimes I feel like a kept man,” Ed says, taking Oswald’s hand at they make their way into the house. Oswald gapes.

“Ed, you know I never intend for you to feel that way-” he says, as Ed opens the door for him.

“Of course, Oswald. I’m just reminded when the staff defer to you, is all. I owe much of what my life is to you,” Ed muses, stepping through after Oswald.

“Ed, with the salary you’ve been getting, you could get your own place, if that’s what you really want,” Oswald says. It’s not what he wants, but if it’s what Ed needs…. He’d even help him find a nice place. They walk through the house holding hands, making a beeline for the dinner table. Something smells delightful.

“You misunderstand. It’s not space I want. I just forget sometimes how much you’ve done for me. You didn’t just get me out of Arkham. You gave me a place to stay, fed me, clothed me… you didn’t just give me a job, either, you gave me a purpose. I tried so hard to find that at Arkham, but nothing was satisfying. After I figured everyone out, the game was too easy. I was miserable.” Ed says, looking particularly morose at this recollection. 

Oswald hates when he gets like this. His own experience at Arkham had been hell because of the literal mental torture Strange had purposefully put him through. Arkham had been a different kind of hell for Ed, though. His intellect had been his greatest trapping there, boredom his greatest enemy. No one needed to go out of their way to inflict mental torture on him; just being there was enough.

Ed had told him how he felt his mind was stagnating in that place. How he had imagined his brain rotting away, leaving him a mindless husk in a place filled with other husks, the thing that made him special slowly grated down by the drugs, the solitude, the lack of sensory and intellectual stimulation. Followed by the overstimulation of his senses, only for it to be ripped away, fluctuating between the extremes. Oswald shivers to imagine the kind of personal hell Arkham had been for Ed, and they had barely had to lay a finger on him to craft it that way.

“I got you back on your feet, Ed. I owed you that, after what you did for me.”

“You really didn’t,” Ed argues, “Not after I pushed you away, let you go off on your own after Arkham, after what they did to you… it’s lucky you found your father, anyone could have taken advantage of you,” Ed argues, still furious with himself. He had been so selfish, so focused on Jim Gordon he had neglected his only real friend. He is still ashamed.

“We’ve been over this a hundred times, Ed. I wasn’t myself. I would have done the same thing,” Oswald insists as they enter the dining room. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starved.”

Ed sighs. One day he’s going to make it up to Oswald for what he’d done. Little by little he is doing what he can to orchestrate the most successful mayoral incumbency Gotham has ever had. It’s the least he can do, in his opinion. Especially after all of the nonsense over Isabella….

He shakes his head clear. That was in the past; they had decided they would never speak of that time again. The pain, the suffering they both went through, the inevitable conflict and resolution. What did it matter? They were here now. 

Here, Edward thinks, looking over their dining table with a smile. In their home.

They dine together relatively uneventfully, sneaking sly looks at each other in anticipation for the culmination of their evening. If Ed keeps his utensils in his mouth a hair too long to be without double meaning, or Oswald cuts through his steak a little more forcefully than necessary, well, that’s all part of the game.

Ed sips his wine, glancing over the rim at Oswald. As always, he had ignored his settings at the opposite end on the table in favour of sitting at Oswald’s left hand. It was not a decision without meaning. He wishes Olga would give up the gambit: this was his place at the table. He didn’t want to sit any farther from Oz, even if it was technically more appropriate. 

Oswald places a hand over his on the table, and Ed puts down the wine, turning his hand over under Oswald’s. Oswald gives him a soft smile, and Ed smiles back, his eyes twinkling. The fire casts a warm glow over the room and their faces, lending a spark to their eyes as they gaze at one another. It had been a long day, but being together like this made the tension melt from their shoulders. Alone, they could be Oswald and Edward, not Kingpin-slash-Mayor and his Chief of Staff.

“Are you ready to retire?” Oswald asks.

“I’ve been ready since the gun range, Ozzie,” Ed teases. Heat flares in Oswald’s belly at the mention. It seems so long ago already. Ed stands, keeping hold of Oswald’s hand and tugging him out of his seat, suddenly impatient. Oswald feels much the same. How had they waited this long? He hurries after Ed quick as he can, his cane tapping the floor in time with their strides.

Invoking the incident from that morning has put Oswald right back into the same mindset. He recalls the feeling of Ed firing the gun, the force of it shuddering through him and back against Oswald. Watching Ed come apart as each shot he fired rocked him back into Oswald and further ruined his accuracy had been delicious. Oswald had been the reason for his poor focus, only him. Oswald loves to give Ed attention, and watching how affected Ed becomes when he does is its own reward.

Now Oswald wants a different kind of reward, keeping pace as they hurry along to their quarters. Ed had not been uninterested, of course. He had practically dissolved in Oswald’s arms, putty in his hands, just how Oswald liked him. Knowing he could affect Ed so strongly was a power trip in and of itself. Oswald was sure that Edward was completely unaware of how alluring he could be, he so rarely used his physicality to his advantage. 

Ed opens the door and ushers him through, kicking off his shoes and pulling his jacket apart. Oswald pushes him back against the door, kissing him hungrily. He doesn’t remember the walk to their room ever being that long, and his patience has worn thin. Ed moans, his hands leaving his jacket to fist in Oswald’s instead, using his lapels to pull him closer. Oswald works to divest him of his clothing, picking up where Ed left off. He unbuttons his vest and shirt, then pulls his tie free. 

Ed pulls Oswald harder against him with one leg, balancing back against the door and holding tightly onto Oswald’s suit jacket. He’s probably wrinkling the material, his grip on Oswald’s front so strong, but Oswald couldn’t care less right now. Oswald tugs Ed’s shirt and jacket down his shoulders, the material bunching around his elbows. Ed refuses to let go of Oswald and break the kiss, pulling him tight against him and moaning as Oswald gives up on disrobing him.

Oswald opts to crowd Ed against the door, pulling his leg up further with one hand around Ed’s thigh and grinding his hips into him. Ed finally breaks the kiss to gasp, and Oswald pulls away. Ed whines, tugging him back by the death grip he has on his jacket. Oswald allows it, biting on Ed’s bottom lip once and backing away again.

“I think we should get undressed, don’t you?” Oswald remarks, tugging at Ed’s belt.

“That’s not a terrible idea,” Ed admits, though he wants Oswald’s lips back on his more than anything. Ed snags his tie from where Oswald dropped it on the floor, striding into the bedroom and slipping out of his jacket, vest and shirt as he heads for the closet. He hangs them appropriately. Ed undoes his belt, slinging it into the closet as well before making quick work of his pants and putting those away. He hums, satisfied. Turning, he finds Oswald watching him from the bed, fully nude.

Ed sighs. He thought he’d been making good time. Oswald’s clothes are in a pile on the floor, as per usual. Ed tries not to look. He crawls onto the bed as Oswald watches him, his arms crossed, impatient. Ed kisses him, soothing Oswald’s frown with his lips as he moves to straddle his boyfriend. Ed settles down onto Oswald’s hips, feeling Oswald’s erection prod him through his boxer-briefs.

“I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” Ed purrs, circling his hips. Oswald’s hands come up to grip them, pushing Ed to continue the gentle motion.

“I don’t know why you insist on putting your clothes away, it rather interrupts the mood, don’t you think?” Oswald says, fondly exasperated by Ed’s idiosyncrasies. 

“It doesn’t feel like I’ve interrupted the mood,” Ed snarks, grinding down harder against Oswald’s cock for emphasis. “Besides, you bought those outfits for me, I want to treat them nicely.”

“I bought them for you, and I’ll buy you more should we ruin them in the process of having sex,” Oswald growls, taking Ed’s bottom lip between his teeth and running his fingers over the waistband of his briefs. 

“That’s reassuring,” Ed says, “Good to know you don’t expect me to do my job without any clothes on.”

“Not exactly the position you were hired for, no. I think you’d take to it, though,” Oswald muses, mouthing along Ed’s neck.

“What position is that, then?” Ed asks, breathless.

“Office eye candy,” Oswald murmurs, rolling them so Ed’s beneath him. He licks along his collarbone before kissing down his chest.

“What exactly would this job entail?” Ed says, trying to focus on the conversation even as Oswald licks across a nipple. Their earlier discussion about Ed being a kept man comes to mind.

“You’re there because you’re easy on the eyes, of course. You’d make coffee, answer phone calls, you know. Everything a good little secretary should do,” Oswald finishes, pulling Ed’s underwear down his legs. He leaves Ed’s socks on. Ed had read somewhere that on average, one tends to have better orgasms if their feet aren’t cold or if they’re wearing socks, and since then he’s insisted. Oswald doesn’t mind, he generally can’t see Ed’s feet when he’s fucking him. Not that socks are a turn off, anyways.

“Sounds fairly easy. Maybe I should just be your scantily clad secretary. Who knows what kind of trouble I could get up to with all that free time?” Ed ponders, watching Oswald as he retrieves the lube.

“Who said anything about free time? I’d have plenty of uses for you,” Oswald insinuates, uncapping the bottle.

“Ozzie, wait,” Ed says. Oswald snaps the bottle shut.

“Yes, dear?” he sing-songs.

“Tie me up?” Ed asks sweetly, crossing his wrists. Oswald smiles, retrieving a familiar silk tie from their nightstand. He binds Ed’s wrists, then loops the tie though the headboard, knotting it.

“Good?” he asks, watching Ed test the give, twisting his wrists. Ed nods.

“Where were we?” Oswald murmurs, coating his fingers with lube and kissing the side of Ed’s face. He moves along his cheekbones and across his face as he waits for the lube to warm on his fingers.

He’ll never tire of having Ed under him, at his mercy. Even better is knowing that Ed asked for this, that he wanted it as well. Ed has willingly offered himself for Oswald to take, and wasn’t that the sweetest reward of all? Oswald knows he doesn’t enjoy having his hands tied for long. That only makes the gesture, the offering, that much more enticing for Oswald. Here was someone who would ignore his own desires to appeal to Oswald’s. As always, Oswald resolved to reward Ed’s devotion by releasing him the moment he asked. It was no good for him if Ed wasn’t also being cared for, after all.

“You were detailing the many nuances of secretarial work for me. I’m considering a career change,” Ed murmurs, practically glowing under the affection Oswald is showing him.

“Of course,” Oswald says, running his finger between Ed’s cheeks, “It’s not as easy as you might expect, of course. I don’t know where you got the notion of having any free time.” Ed squirms as Oswald runs his finger over him, just circling for now, barely any pressure. It finally slips in as Oswald continues.

“I’d have to put that pretty mouth to use, of course. I wonder if you’d fit under my desk? I could keep you there, have you hold my cock in your mouth while I tend to business,” Ed moans, shuddering, but Oswald’s not done, “Only until I’m ready to fuck you, of course.” Oswald pushes another finger inside as Ed begins pressing down, impatient.

“You’d never be unprepared, Ed. I could take you as I wished, whenever I wished.” Ed whines, the idea of Oswald bending him over whenever he wanted was doing unexpected things to his level of arousal. He didn’t really want that, of course, and knew Oswald would never force him to do something he didn’t want. But the fantasy is delicious, even in front of-

“Even in front of others?” he says aloud, unable to stop himself. Earlier events from today come to mind, first the threat of the gun range operator, then _Jim Gordon_ actually seeing him. The very idea of it had made his stomach turn earlier, but now it just makes him hot.

“Especially then, you’re just too irresistible,” Oswald murmurs, dragging his fingers over Ed’s prostate, scissoring them. “Perhaps I’d have you sit on my cock instead. After all, why hide such a gorgeous man under my desk?” 

Ed moans, and Oswald works a third finger into him. “No, I’d rather show you off. What a sight you’d be, perched on my dick like a good boy for every major crime lord and constituent in Gotham to see. Would you like that, Ed? Would you sit on my cock and show everyone what a slut you are for it?” He wouldn’t, but that’s not the game they’re playing and it’s a moot point, as Oswald would never ask him to.

“Yes!” he cries, because there’s some truth to it, because he would do anything Oswald asked of him, and Oswald would never ask for too much.

“Anything,” Ed whispers, pulling at his restraints and yearning for Oswald’s lips on his. Oswald bends to kiss him, pulling his fingers loose from Ed even as his body clutches around them. Oswald slicks his cock, holding it as he presses steadily into Ed. Ed feels a low whine building in his throat; he wants the entirety of Oswald inside of him right now. He wishes it was easier for him to take Oswald’s cock, that he could be ready for Oswald whenever he wished like they had fantasized. 

He can imagine it now: Oswald ordering everyone from Ed’s own study, locking the door behind him and bending Ed over his desk. Ed would never know when or where Oswald might decide to take him. It would be heaven, to be able to give Oswald this whenever he wanted.

Ed sighs as Oswald finally sinks the last of his cock into him. It would be an easier achievement if his lover was less well-endowed, but Ed’s not complaining. Far from it, actually.

“Good?” Oswald asks, waiting for Ed to adjust to his girth. Ed hums; it’s good, but he needs another minute. Oswald licks over his neck in the meantime, stroking his hands over Ed’s sides. Oswald thumbs over his nipples, then drags a hand up into his hair and kisses him again.

“Would you really want that?” Ed asks when the kiss breaks. He doesn’t want to mistake dirty talk for what Oswald desires of him.

“Want what?” Oswald murmurs, kissing over Ed’s brow. Ed’s hot and tight around him. It’s agony to wait but the thought of hurting Ed is worse, and he keeps his hips flush to Ed despite the burning need to rock into him. Not until he’s ready. He can’t think of anything but the sensations in this moment, their earlier conversation long forgotten.

“What you said earlier… would you rather I was doing that?” Ed asks. He likes being Chief of Staff. The work is challenging and interesting, and it’s been a wonderful exercise of his intellect. But did Oswald want his on his knees, serving him, more than he valued him as Chief of Staff? Ed hates that he can’t ask his aloud, that he has to leave Oswald to muddle through the traps he sets with his words. He can’t help but obscure the meaning of things behind different questions, it’s always been his hang-up. Yet despite this, Oswald has never given him the wrong answer. If only he was less insecure, he wouldn’t even have to ask. He feels terrible already for doubting Oswald, but he needs to _know_.

Oswald takes a moment to think. What had they even been talking about earlier? Ed clenches around him. If his lover could perhaps stop feeling so good for a moment and allow him a second to _concentrate_ , that would be helpful. Oh, yes, the secretary thing. Oswald laughs.

Ed pouts. It wasn’t funny. He wanted to know. Oswald quiets, cupping Ed’s face and speaking plainly.

“Of course not, Ed. I can’t imagine anything more wasteful than using you merely for sexual gratification. Your big, beautiful brain continues to astound me. It would be shameful of me to grant you anything less than an open view of my operations and the utmost consideration of your advice. The very idea is ridiculous, in all reality. Would you rather I not mention it again?” Oswald asks, suddenly concerned that he’s undermined Ed somehow with the suggestion.

Ed grins widely. “Not at all. It is, oddly enough, highly arousing to imagine. The big, bad Mayor of Gotham and his sexy Chief of Staff.” Ed hums again, delighted at the earlier praise and feeling quite confident, now. He squirms under Oswald, then brings his legs around him like he always does when he’s ready for Oswald to begin.

“Go on then, Ozzie. What will the press think when then come barging in your office and see me bent over your desk, happily taking your cock? What a way to announce a relationship… do you think we’ll make the front cover when they find out about us?” Ed gasps as Oswald begins moving in him. He’s careful at first, barely moving at all.

“Truthfully, I think you belong in the centerfold of a gentleman’s magazine,” Oswald says, rolling his hips into Ed with increased vigor. Ed blushes. Oswald is beginning to turn him into a very vain man. 

“If our big reveal makes anything less than front page news,” Oswald continues, “I’ll put the paper that did it out of business and name a new one after you.” Oswald is truly driving into him now. Ed grips the restraints above him, latching on to the headboard as Oswald’s deep, hard thrusts drive him back.

“Ozzie!” he cries, pulling at his silk ties. Ed wants to touch him, wants Oswald to touch him. He lunges up, capturing Oswald mouth in a kiss. Oswald kisses back, pressing Ed back and licking deep into his mouth. Oswald grips Ed’s thighs tightly in his hands as he pulls Ed to him, fucking him into the mattress. 

Ed sucks on his tongue, desperate for more. His legs shake as Oswald drags over his prostate, and he tries to tighten them around Oswald as he feels them beginning to give in to weakness. It brings his hips up, changing the angle so that Oswald is thrusting directly into his prostate. Ed groans, throwing his head back at the contact, breaking the kiss. He doesn’t have the breath to kiss Oswald any longer, his chest heaving as Oswald drives into him. Ed tries to meet his thrusts but he doesn’t have to, Oswald is paying attention, knows that he’s found the right angle.

“I love you,” Oswald says, panting with exertion as he brings a hand to Ed’s cock. Ed tries to get his breath back to respond. This has become quite difficult now that Oswald is stroking his cock in time with well-placed thrusts, thrusts which are continually battering his sweet spot. 

“I love you,” Ed breathes out. “Oswald, I love you…” 

Oswald smothers him with another kiss, stealing his breath away again. Oswald brings a hand to Ed’s throat, squeezing lightly there. Ed gazes up at him, helpless to prevent Oswald from doing whatever he wants to him. It’s a thrilling sentiment for both lovers, in their own ways. An exercise in trust from both parties. 

“Let me touch you,” Ed begs, dizzy from the hand around his neck. He could never stand to tie his hands for long, only for Oswald. It would only ever be for Oswald. Ed would not allow himself to be this weak, this powerless, for anyone else. Oswald was the only man he could ever yield control to; he trusted him absolutely. Oswald loved him, after all.

Oswald moves to untie him immediately. He knows that having his hands tied is quite the sacrifice for Ed, who is such an immensely tactile person. Oswald reaches up with the hand he had previously wrapped around Ed’s neck, still rocking Ed with the force of his thrusts. Oswald keeps his other hand bruisingly tight around Ed’s hip for leverage. He finishes undoing the knot, and Ed immediately reaches for his face, pulling Oswald down to kiss him while the silk tie still dangles from one wrist.

“I love you,” Ed chants between kisses, “I love you so much, Ozzie.” Heat flares in Oswald’s stomach. He hitches one of Ed’s legs over his shoulder and pounds into him with renewed force, practically bending him in half as Oswald leans forward to kiss him again.

“I love you,” Oswald whispers when their lips part, “You’re so beautiful like this, so brilliant-”

Oswald grunts as Ed’s nails drag over his back, clutching him tighter. Oswald bends, taking Ed’s earlobe between his teeth before whispering into his ear, “And you’re _mine_.”

“Yours,” Ed gasps, digging his nails into Oswald’s shoulders, his toes curling in pleasure.

“All yours, I’d do anything-” Ed moans, his promise interrupted as Oswald moves in him. Oswald knows, he’s said it enough.

“Oh,” Ed cries, “Ozzie…”

“Come for me, Eddie, go on,” Oswald says, his hand moving faster over Ed’s cock, “I want you to come for me.”

Ed squeezes his eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners as he lets his orgasm overwhelm him. Oswald listens as Ed cries his name, feels his cock in his hand and the waves of Ed’s orgasm over his own dick. He watches Ed toss his head back, trembling as he goes over the edge, and thinks: _I did this_.

It is with that great satisfaction that Oswald’s own orgasm comes, driving into Ed and fucking him through his climax as Oswald comes inside of him. Oswald locks his jaw into the crook of Ed’s neck and shoulder, biting down hard to stifle what he thinks of as the embarrassing sounds of him coming. Ed spasms around his cock as he rolls his hips into him, the last few moments of his orgasm. Oswald lets his teeth unlock from Ed’s neck, licking over the bite. It’s already purpling. He smirks.

Oswald stops stroking Ed and stills his hips. He lets Ed’s leg drop from his shoulder, kissing him softly. Oswald reaches for a few tissues, carefully pulling out of Ed and catching the results of his orgasm as it escapes from inside of him. Normally he loves to watch the evidence of his claim on Ed drip from where he’s just been deep inside of him, but that’s all rather messy and he’d like to sleep. He can mark Ed’s creamy thighs with his come any time, and it’s been a long day.

Oswald doesn’t bother leaving the bed, just wiping his hand off on more tissues and sweeping over Ed’s stomach. He tosses the the tissues towards the bin and doesn’t wait to see if they made it. Oswald lays beside Ed, who presents his wrists without comment.

“Good?” Oswald asks, mouthing over the thin skin of Ed’s wrists. There’s only very slightly reddened. Good. That means Oswald was, for the most part, doing exactly what Ed wanted. Oswald preens.

“Very. Perhaps we could play it out…?”

“Absolutely not,” Oswald says, blushing, “I’m no exhibitionist.”

“Fine.” Ed sighs exaggeratedly, secretly very pleased. He’s glad they’re on the same page.

“I want you all to myself,” Oswald whispers, “I want to be the only one who can see you like this, who can have you like this.” Ed flushes. He should probably be more worried about what Oswald’s possessiveness does to him. He would be, if it wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

“Well, if you play your cards right…” Ed teases. Oswald growls, kissing him deeply, biting at his lips. Oswald shouldn’t let Ed push his buttons like this, but he was the only person who knew exactly how far he could pull Oswald’s strings before they snapped. It both infuriated him, and made him feel as though Ed truly understood him. Which is why he continued to let him get away with it. Such is love.

“Careful, Eddie,” Oswald warns, “or the papers might receive some misinformation about our relationship.”

“What spin would that be?” Ed asks.

“You’re a gold-digging, power-hungry seducer who beguiled me into his bed,” Oswald says, deadpan. Ed laugh uproariously, throwing his head back.

“That sounds interesting, maybe let the Gazette publish that?” he suggests, once his laughter stops. Oswald scoffs.

“As though I’d let them even _imply_ something unkind about you,” Oswald says, kissing his cheek. He finally lets Ed’s wrists drop, finished massaging any possible hurt from them. He brushes Ed’s hair back from his face, loving the way it goes curly from the exertion of sex. Ed hums, nuzzling into his hand and kissing his palm.

“What if they did?” Ed says, nudging his nose against Oswald’s. His glasses are filthy, but they can wait.

“Hmm,” Oswald ponders for a moment, “I suppose I’d cut their lying tongues out of their heads.” Ed smiles. Oswald was always so thoughtful, so quick to rise to Ed’s defense. It was one of the things Ed loved about him.

“Riddle me this: I’m rarely touched but often held. If you have wit you’ll use me well. What am I?” Ed quips. Oswald pauses for a moment, then smiles when the answer makes itself clear in light of their conversation. He bends, kissing Ed and licking into his mouth, sucking on Ed’s tongue when he reciprocates.

“Did I get it?” Oswald asks, running a hand down Ed’s chest.

“I’m not sure you did, maybe you should show me again?” Ed simpers, batting his lashes. Oswald kisses him again, Ed’s arms coming up around his shoulders, winding into his hair. He could stay like this forever. 

When they finally part, Ed asks, “Do you think Jimbo will talk?” Oswald groans.

“Ed, the _afterglow_.” Ed continues to stare at him, waiting for reassurance. “No, he’s probably too traumatized, but…” Oswald doesn’t want to move their relationship too quickly, but it seems like an appropriate time to bring it up. Now or never….

“Let’s make the announcement soon,” Oswald says, “I want you on my arm at every charity ball from now until forever.” He’s sick of sitting alone while everyone else whirls his man around the dance floor, that’s all. It has nothing to do with wanting everyone in Gotham to know that Ed is his. Nothing at all.

“That can be arranged,” Ed chirps. Well. That was easy. Oswald grins, kissing Ed softly in a silent ‘ _thank you_.’

Ed pushes Oswald off, both hands on his chest, coaxing him to lie back so Ed can cuddle up on top of Oswald instead. Ed folds his glasses and puts them on the nightstand. He lays back down beside Oswald, throwing an arm over his chest and pillowing his head over Oswald’s heart. Ed tucks himself under Oswald’s chin, his hair tickling over his chest and neck. Oswald wraps his arms around him, cradling Ed to his chest.

They’re never letting go.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? Leave a comment below or a virgin sacrifice. Whatever's easier.


End file.
